Free What Lies Within by Karen Ball

felt right. All he needed now was for customers to agree.
    Happily, they’d done so.
    “Earth to Rafa. Time to stop daydreaming and get to work, ’
manito
.”
    Pulled from his thoughts, Rafe touched a finger to his sister’s smooth cheek. “Thanks, Livita.”
    She pursed her lips. “For what?”
    “Everything. I couldn’t have made it these last few years without you. Your encouragement and support …” Emotion clogged his throat and he looked down.
    “And my pastries, eh? Don’t forget my
deliciosa
pastries.”
    Her teasing words eased the tightness in his throat, but before he could thank her, the bell above the door jangled.
    Rafe turned, ready to serve the customer, and found instead a friend.“Fredrik.” He moved forward, hand extended. “Have you finally decided to take up the fine art of coffee drinking?”
    “I should be so crazy? And if I were”—his hand swept toward the menu board behind the counter—“I should spend so much on hot water?”
    The old man’s insults were belied by the twinkle in those blue eyes. Rafe took the proffered hand in his own. “Ah, but what wondrous flavor lies in that water.”
    The old man’s white brows waggled.
“Narishkeit.”
    “No, Fredrik. What’s foolishness is that you come to a place with such delectable treats and don’t partake.” Now it was Rafe’s turn to waggle his brows. “I thought Jews didn’t do self-denial.”
    “There’s more here to enjoy than your flavored water, my boy.” He lowered himself into one of the overstuffed chairs. “The company of friends …” A cloud passed over his features, and all merriment melted away. “And sound counsel from a man of God.”
    Rafe could count on one hand the number of times the old man had been troubled in all the years he’d known him. It didn’t sit well to see disquiet on a face so accustomed to joviality. He turned to signal Olivia, letting her know he was taking a break, and then took the chair next to Fredrik. “What troubles you so today?”
    Sorrow was an ache in his friend’s aged eyes. “Our contractor quit.”
    Rafe leaned back. “But … I thought this one just got started.”
    “So he did. But the obstacles, they were too many. A number of his men were injured. Accidents that no one can explain.” The stooped shoulders lifted in an eloquent shrug. “We’ve tried and tried, but everything seems against us doing what God has called us to.”
    Rafe debated voicing his question but decided it was better to ask now than wish he’d done so. “You’re still sure it’s His call? Renovating the church into a youth center?”
    Fredrik stared down at his hands, lips pursed. Then his head moved in a slow, weary nod. “You know the people who live in this neighborhood, Rafael.” His gaze met Rafe’s. “And you know the opposition.”
    Rafe’s lips compressed. Yes, he knew them. When he left the military he’d thought his days as a warrior were over. Then God brought him to Fredrik’slittle church. Rafe thought it was to join the congregation. But he soon discovered that wasn’t his only purpose.
    “The 22s?”
    Fredrik’s forehead creased. “The who?”
    “I’m sorry. The Blood Brotherhood.”
    “Oh yes, of course. They do call themselves the 22s, don’t they? I’ve never quite understood why.”
    Rafe shrugged. “Simple. B is the second letter in the alphabet. BB for Blood Brotherhood becomes 22. So …”
    “The 22s. See? That makes perfect sense.” Fredrik steepled his fingers. “So, are the 22s involved? That I don’t know for certain. I didn’t think so, but others? Well, they’re convinced the gang is working with Ballat to stop us.”
    “How so?” Rafe braced himself for the answer, disappointment gnawing deep in his gut. When God called him to involvement with the gang, he’d argued long and hard. He just wanted to run his coffee place and be at peace. But God didn’t turn loose. He kept putting members from the 22s in his path. First a